To Find One's Heart and Soul
by WriTing4LiFe
Summary: HG's experiences and struggles that leads her to her heart, and soul... Myka.
1. Chapter 1

Hello! well this is for all my Bering and Wells shippers, who absolutely adore our ladies. I have had this story in my head for a long time and I was always afraid to write it, cause I do not think I am any good at writing, so if there are mistakes I apologize. This chapter is obviously the beginning where a lot of things may be explored, some may stick to the actual show line or I may add or remove from it or just drastically change it. Bering and Wells is end game! I repeat End Game! Canon whatever you wanna call it. I do have the next couple of chapters planned out, it just needs to be written. I will try my best to probably post once a week. This story has a plot or line or whatever you wanna call it and it follows an ancient Greek Myth, it will eventually make it's presence known. I do have tumblr feel free to follow me and message. Reviews will make my day as well :D fav and follow :D

 **According to Ancient Greek Mythology it is said that originally humans consisted of four arms, four legs and a single head made of two faces, but Zeus feared their power and split them all in half condemning them to spend their lives searching for the other to complete them.**

...

 **Vengeance**

The sounds of their footsteps against the cobblestone road echoed in the dark night. She had done it, well sort of. This was after all the first half of her plan. She had spent months stalking and learning all she could before she could make her move and it paid off, cause now here she was walking just two paces ahead of them. They were her targets. She had been on and off following them whenever she was free from the Warehouse, but tonight had been different. She could no longer wait.

The stress and the grief was beginning to take it's toll. She was crumbling inside. She was now becoming a shadow of who she use to be. She knew all of this, but yet she had allowed the grief, so quickly to turn to vengeance. If only her brother Charles could see her now. The great and powerful H. science fiction author reduced to this. To this beast so consumed by rage and hungry for justice.

Her plan tonight was to get the targets to her lab. She'd successfully gotten them out the pub, by flaunting her feminine attributes, as a lady of the night. They had so easily taken the bait. Now they were halfway near the lab. "Bart, pass me the whiskey" one of the targets said.

She had learned his name was Alistair, He wasn't as fit as she would have thought him to be judging from the turmoil he'd caused so many people, herself included. He was rather skinny, with sandy brown hair and dark brown eyes.

"It's so bloody cold" Alistair said yet again as he had his hand out stretched to his friend Bart.

"It's always cold you idiot, it's bloody England" Bart said as he took a swig from the whiskey before he passed it over to Alistair. Bart on the other hand, she could tell would be hard to break. He was almost 6 feet tall, strong arms and a rather round stomach. His blonde hair was shaggy and covered his eyes, so much that he had to keep moving his hair out of the way so he could see."why else would we have that whiskey and this whore" Bart laughed as slipped his arm around HG's waist and pulled her close. She could smell the putrid smell of cheap whiskey on his breath. She then tore his grip from around her waist as she continued to walk keeping her silence. She wanted to act, but now was not the

Time or place. She had to remind herself of that as she tried to calm her mind.

"How much further? I'm getting tired of all this walking" Alistair said as he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, being so

careful not to spill the cheap whiskey.

"We have been walking a while now, haven't we Al?" Bart said as he stopped suddenly, causing HG to stop and turn in the direction of her targets. "Whores normally have their place of business close to where they pick up every tom, dick and harry." He said as he approached HG. She could swear she heard the rusted gears in his mind beginning to creak and groan as he tried to think.

"perhaps this one is no Whore. Perhaps she is leading us to an ambush" Bart said matter of fact, causing Al to take in his surroundings.

HG had lead them to the bank of river Thames, a lonely and desolate area, that during the day were filled with merchants purchasing goods and fishermen plying their trade. A fog was beginning to roll in off the water and started giving the area an even more eerie feel. She was so close. Her make shift lab was less than a stone throw away. She can't fail she can't. She'd come so close, spent all this time. She closed her eyes for a second and an instant flood of memories races through her mind. The slight panic that had just begun to rise up in her chest was replaced by bitterness and anger, but was over run by the feeling of hate. Her hands formed fist, her breathing came hard and she snapped! With her quick thinking, and her training in kenpō she easily took Bart by the arm pulling him to her and kneeing him in the gut, she saw as he fell clutching his stomach, she quickly turned to Al who had stood only a few steps away, only for her to be greeted with a punch to the face as she stumbled back ward holding on to her jaw. The paining sang a glorious song with in her head, screaming and making her lose her bearing. She felt herself being pulled, almost dragged before being hit in the gut. She fell on her knees, as she heard Bart laughing, she turned to face him as he got up from the cobblestone and proceeded to dust of his disgusting looking overcoat.

" You think some whore would get the better of us?" he bellowed out as he laughed. HG sat there, trying to get he bearing. She did not come this far to be beaten, to allow them to get the better of her. The thoughts of Christina blared in her mind. The thoughts of never being able to hold her darling daughter again, no more memories to be made, no more light in her life. It was at that moment, she felt her blood began to boil, she tighten her muscles as she began to shake with rage.

"Look Bart! The harlot is getting angry" Al laughed as he pointed to HG's crouched figure. HG raised her head and stared straight at him, she was not aware of anything else around her, she felt neater the chill of the night or heard the horse drawn carriages in the distance, what had been building up had suddenly broke and she will make them pay!

HG lunged at Al elbowing him in the jaw as Bart quickly in turn attacked, she deflected his punch with a kick to the gut, as he knelt over holding on to his stomach she began repeatedly kicking him, using the technique she was sure would do the job in subduing, for she has greater plans in store for the night. Bart tried to get the upper hand by getting hold of her leg and pulled her, as if to trip her,but she quickly hit him in the face as hard as she could muster and she watched as he fell limply back to the cobblestone.

She quickly turned around, as Al rushed her and she easily side stepped him as he tripped and fell into some empty crated that lined the alleyway.

"please, mercy!" he yelled out, his cowardice showing. " just let me go" he said as he got himself out of the crates. " I want no trouble."HG did not reply, she just stood there eyes focused on her next target. There was no way she would let him go, if he thinks so then he is a fool. "I'll just take my friend and go." he said as he made to approach a now unconscious Bart. HG had had enough, she quickly delivered a kick to Al's head and watched as he fell to the cobblestone. She had broken past her patience, all her planning, all this time, she wanted her vengeance and she was going to have it.

...

In his semi consciousness Bart could hear the faint sound of screaming, he had been drifting in and out, for how long he could not be sure. The pulsing pain in his head was nothing he had ever felt before. He closed his eyes, not sure he could open them. He sat there listening, the faint sounds of screaming had now become a deafening howl. He was not sure where it was coming from, it echoed on the walls. He tried to move, but felt his arms could not budge. He was restrained. He slowly opened his eyes, but the moment he opened them, everything around him swirled. He tried again to open them and again the swirling took hold of him. He had seen nothing of importance as he studied what he was seeing beyond the swirling. It was all dark. He felt his stomach twisting, ready to empty itself, he quickly closed his eyes shut. He sat there trying to regain his strength. He tried to get his arms freed, but he only succeeded in digging his skin raw against the restraints. He listened to the screams, barely able to make out words hidden within them. Beyond the constant screaming he could hear a female voice shouting, "Tell me! Tell me what you did!" followed by more screaming. Fear rose within him, he fought against the restraints once more. He needed to get out of here. He tried to think back to what had happened. To what he had done that winded him up here. It came to him slowly. The whore! He was right, it had been an ambush. "Bart! Bart!". He heard his name

being screamed and just like that the screaming had stopped and silence pierced his surroundings. He held his breath. The sounds of metal rustling caught his attention. The sounds of whimpering could be heard above the sounds of metal. Then there were footsteps, he heard them far off, but they were

now approaching. With his eyes still closed, he felt himself being dragged across the floor. He briefly opened his eyes, only for them to be bombarded with light. Least his surroundings were no longer swirling. He then felt himself being braced against a cool wall. Then heard the dragging of chains and felt them being clamped around his hands and ankles. He looked up only to see the figure of a shadow, made from the light, moving across what looked like a small room.

The room around him, cluttered with metal and wooden crates, to the far left of the room he could see a table covered with objects he could not make out. His attention then wandered around, looking for a possible way out, but there was none, even if he could get himself out of the chains, there was no way out, it was impossible now. "Bart is it?" The clearly feminine voice said as the sound of objects being tinkered with sounded from the table. " I hadn't been entirely sure that was your name. I had been following you and your friend for quiet sometime." she said as she gestured to the corner of the room. In the corner attached to chains was a figure curled up with a small pool of red liquid next to it.

"Al?!" Bart yelled as his eyes opened wider. He thought he looked like Al, but it couldn't be. The figure that laid there, looked utterly beaten and broken.

"I'm afraid yes." the feminine voice said. As she moved from around the table, so fluidly she looked to be hoovering. What had been a figure in the shadow, now appeared to be dressed in gray trousers and cream shirt with a gray waist coat. Her hair was done up in a simple bun. It was then that it dawned to him that this was the whore from last night. He remembered her beauty, after all it was what had him seek her services for the night, as he took in her appearance fully he could see that she had skin as white and smooth as porcelain. Her hair the colour of the midnight sky, her eyes dark and brooding.

" You crazy whore! What have you done to him!" Bart barked loudly. His voice echoing in the room.

"Oh come now Bart. How rude of you to address me as a whore." She said as she approached, banishing a small blade." The names Helena." She said as she pointed the blade to him

Bart struggled, pulling and thrashing the chains that held him. He told himself whatever happened, he wouldn't go down without a fight. HG approached him, kneeling she brandish the blade to his face and at the slightest touch he felt the stinging and the warm liquid spreading in the wake of the blade. Bart sucked in air and gritted his teeth." why are you doing this!" he spat out. The midnight hair woman looked at him, her brooding eyes now reflected a look of surprise.

" As if you don't know!" she yelled as she stood up and backed up a few steps. " It took your friend a while to remember!" She walked towards him, her steps faster as she kicked him in his gut. . His face twisted with pain. " You killed her! You killed my Christina!"she said as she again kicked him. "I'll make it so you never forget! I'll make it so you remember the name Christina Wells and what you've done!"

...

Sweat dripped off her brow. How long was she standing here, she could not tell. The screams of this man before her, now seemed like white noise to her, she was more focused on causing as much pain as she could, without killing him of course. She knew how to cause pain without it leading to death. She was after all an avid lover of science. She, along with the help of her brother Charles, had written textbooks on the subject of biology, so she was sure she knew the anatomy of the human

body quiet well enough.

" please i beg you... mercy!" the strained horse voice screamed in agony.

"mercy?! you beg for mercy?! there was none showed to Christina! None for my child!" Helena yelled back as she pulled harder on the chains, causing Bart to scream out again. He now laid on a table, his hands and ankles that had been attached to chains were now connected to gears that Helena controlled, the more tension she brought on them, the more they pulled, causing Bart's body to pull at either end. His fingers were curled in unnatural angles, his face red and sweaty, streaked with dried

blood. His icy blue eyes were now blood shot. He was now looking like the animal he was.

"You bitch!" Bart yelled out as he spat blood at HG's face. She wiped the blood off her face. Helena's insides shook with disgust and anger. She let the gears run slack as she moved quickly to her table and grabbed hold of a blade and moved so fast and fluid like to Bart as she pressed the cold steel against his neck. She looked into his eyes, she could see the silent plead in them. He was baiting her, wanting her to kill him, but death will be too easy, she was not yet finished with him.

Al had told her what they had done. How they broke in expecting no one to be at the house, how they encountered Sophie, the nanny and her constant yelling for someone named Christina. She heard that

Sophie had fought well, gaining a blow to her head, and that was when Christina had showed herself. She was in her night gown. She had started screaming and they had tried to get her to shut up and she wouldn't and that was when Bart struck poor Christina in the head with a silver candle stick. Helena looked into those icy pools and searched further in them, hoping to find some sort of answer, something more that would tell her why they had struck a defenseless 8 year old. Bart had said nothing when she questioned him, he had no remorse for anything he had done, she had wanted to kill him, but death was far too good for him."if you're going to kill me, do it!" Bart snarled as he stared challengingly into HG's dark eyes.

Helena broke the stare and stepped back, dropping the knife. She ran her hands down her hair that was long undone from the class Victorian bun she had had it. She took a deep breath. She was tired. She cupped her face in her hands and covered her eyes with her fingers and slowly let out the breath she took. She had spent months planning all this, searching for the men responsible for the death of Christina, her daughter. She had been holding off for a while, before she allowed herself to confront them, but after last nights futile attempt to change what had happened, she could no longer wait. Her anger and heartache had push forward her plans. She had left Wolcott that morning after an artifact hunt to scout for an appropriate setting in which she would make the men pay for what they had done. She knew she was cutting it close, too close to the Warehouse agents finding out what she was up to, but it was a chance she was more than willing to take. No one understood her, not even her brother

Charles. Charles of course grieved for Christina, but he did not and could not understand the grief that consumed a mother. A mother... the thought of it made her heart ache. Was she even a mother? She was a poor excuse for one. She was always away doing the Warehouse's business, always away from her daughter.

The Warehouse, better known as Warehouse 12 was an organization responsible for the retrieval and archiving of artifacts that held power that the world wasn't yet ready for, or never will be ready for. She was known as Helena G Wells, Warehouse 12 agent and an agent of Scotland Yard. She was but only a pawn in the Warehouse. What had seem such an endless wonder, now lost it's appeal to her. Blame was now a thing in endless supply, she threw it wildly at everyone, especially herself.

She had sent Christina to her cousins. It was meant to be a simple family holiday, but Helena was called away on Warehouse business and had no choice but to send Christina on ahead, with the promise to meet her there in a couple of days, but for Helena, those days had turned to weeks. The artifact they were hunting was proving to be far elusive. It had been 2 weeks before she arrived back at the Warehouse, artifact in hand, when she was handed the telegram that told her the news of Christina's death. Christina had been sick and was left at the house, in the care of the nanny Sophie, while the cousins were off in town that day when there had been a robbery at the cousin's home. Sophie the nanny, had tried to fight them off, but could not get to Christina in time. Helena's thoughts since then was, who and why? She had vowed the day of Christina's funeral to find the monsters responsible and make them pay dearly for it.

Helena withdrew her hands from her face and took in her surroundings. She took in the room. The torch dancing shadows on the walls. The rhythmic dripping of water from the ceiling. She looked at the broken and bent man laying in the corner, Al. His whimpering had at last stopped. She moved closer to him, looking for any signs that he was still alive. It was never her intention to kill any of them. It was only just to hurt them, like the way she had been hurt. her emotional pain stretching far beyond that, emotional. She looked at him closely, she could see his uneven breathing. He was alive. Bart gasp and coughed as he laid on the table. She was not done. She slowly walked to the table. Her footsteps emanating through the small room. She sifted through her instruments of torture, looking for something

that will induce pain far efficiently. Her mind was traveling at a speed far greater than that of a 4 horse carriage, when her thoughts were interrupted by the echoing of footsteps. She looked around the small room. Bart still laid on the table and Al in the corner. What was she hearing?

"HG..." She heard echo through out.


	2. Death and A Consequence

Hello everyone, here is Chapter 2. I would rate this M for the first bit of the chapter. Warning for a character death and graphic details of said death. I want to thank Lisa for all her help. I had been looking for a beta, but no one got back to me and then came Lisa, so thank you loads! Look out next week (not any specific day) for Chapter 3.I hope you all enjoy this Chapter and you can follow me on tumblr the-warehouse-and-apples …

Death and A Consequence

She looked to the door. She had been careful. No one should know she was here. She stayed silent."HG!" again it rung out. The sound of footsteps sounded louder. It was approaching." HG! are you in there?" The door creaked slowly open. She froze.

In the dimmed lighting of the room she could see a shadow of a person standing at the entrance. She could hear an audible gasp in utter shock as the figure made out the body lying on the table and ran towards it and began trying to undo the chains that bonded Bart. HG sprinted across the room, blade in hand. She grabbed the figure from behind as she pressed the blade to it's neck. For a second she considered not running the blade across it's neck, but she had finally gotten this far, nothing and no one would stop her and so with quick fluid motion she slid the blade along the jugular, her face sprinkled with the warm drops, the smell of iron present in her nostrils. She felt the body pressed against her front relax and slip from her, hitting the ground with a thud as she heard it's throat gurgling.

Helena had no remorse at that moment as she watched with rage filled eyes as the body that laid on the floor squirm and fought, trying it's best to clutch it's throat and crawl to the door. Helena picked up her blade and began cleaning it against the cuff of her shirt.

"Wolly!" she heard a voice bouncing off the walls. She ran to the table and picked up her Tesla. The Tesla a standard issue hand gun for warehouse Agents designed by Nikolai Tesla himself and redesigned by her for Warehouse use. The Tesla emitted an electric charge that when fired, induces a charge that knocks the target immobile along with contributing to some memory loss. She never left home without it. "Wolly damnnit man are you in there?" She hears again above the gurgling. Helena lodges herself behind an over turned crate and watches as another figure enters the room only to run to its fallen friend. "Dear god! Wolly!" the voice clearly shaken.

From behind the crate Helena could see the figure fumbling in the dim light to save the person who was profusely bleeding, but she knew there was nothing that could be done to save his life. She began to count the seconds down before life would slip away leaving the body empty and void. One…. his friend struggled to apply pressure. 2….. ramblings of hanging on. 3…. pleas to keep his eyes open. 4… the sound of crying. 5….. the gurgling stops. "HG! HG!" she heard her name being yelled, the voice so vaguely familiar . "HG! where are you!" it was at that moment she hit the ground after being suspended in her cloud of rage, the voice revealing the veil over her eyes and it dawned on her. Wolly.

… **..**

Helena laid in her bed as she stared into darkness. It had been weeks since Christina's funeral and she had been finding it difficult, but not impossible to locate the men responsible for killing her daughter. How hard could it be for a warehouse agent/Scotland yard agent to track down murderers. She was smart, looking into every lead, knowing that even the slightest bit of information could lead her to her targets. All that consumed her was her hunt. She stared into darkness, finding it very welcoming. Sleep would not, could not come. She laid there building a mental image of what had taken place that day in the house. Everything she brought to life in her mind, were all from Sophie the nanny, and the police reports. She squirmed in bed, feeling the heat emanating from her body under the blankets. She had long since stopped crying, feeling like there were no more tears left within her to come pouring out. She wanted to know what happened. She wanted to stop it, to have her darling daughter back in her arms. She allowed her mind to wander, over things, random things, anything from finding  
herself thinking of Christina. Her mind began to wander to the Warehouse as she rolled her eyes. Her job had lost it's spark, along with so many things. This great vast being that held within it many endless wonder. So many artifacts, so many lifetimes spent collecting, all to keep it locked up in a "storage room" of some sort.

Helena suddenly shot up out of bed, flinging her blankets off her as she put her hand to her forehead. "I'm a bloody idiot" she said as she pushed herself up out of the bed. She went quickly to her desk in the corner of her room and searched for a match to light her candle. The tiny flame that came from such a small candle cast a glow to her room making it seem all eerie, the light of the flame, barely reaching the corners of the room. HG stood at the middle, just a few feet from her bed as she began pacing her room, almost wearing a path on the rug. " The Bloody Warehouse!" she said aloud to no one in particular, but herself. She moved over to her desk as she sat down, her mind was moving so fast she felt she could feel her body going with it. " I need an artifact, There must be one to help me."  
she said as she fumbled with a piece of paper and her quill and ink well, as she got to work listing every artifact she knew that could possibly help her with her new plan. Time travel.

HG had spent almost two weeks going over the list of possible artifacts and still there was no where close to even the brink of researching all of them. She had scoured the archives at the Warehouse and mainly came up with artifacts that involved Teletransportation , but nothing that came close to time travel. She felt like there could be no end to her search, between this and her hunting for the targets, she had no time for anything else, which was good in the way that she hardly had time to let grief overwhelm her, but it had been eating away at her slowly, consuming her with obsession. She walked through aisle after aisle of paperwork sifting through many writings of artifacts and began to feel frustrated. She let her finger tips trail over boxes as she rounded the corner leading to the next  
aisle, when she saw Caturanga, his head bent over a file, his brow creased in concentration as his finger moved over line after line as he read. Caturanga, was the reason why HG worked at the Warehouse. He had recruited her through Scotland yard and had been proven that H. was beyond her years in the area of science and science fiction. He was one of the smartest men she had known, she had seen him more as a mentor than her "boss". He was a man light brown of colour, his hair short and streaked with sliver. He wore a well tailored pin striped brown suit, with matching waist coat. She cleared her throat to get his attention. His concentration broke as he looked at her, a smile forming around his lips.  
"H. , what brings you to the catacombs of dusty paperwork?" he said as he shut his file and tucked it under his arm.

" I'd like to believe that not all endless wonder lay out on the floor of the Warehouse." She said as she laughed, running her hand down her midnight hair.

"If you believe such, why not let me bring you over to archiving and you shall have access to such endless wonder." Caturanga chuckled as he said it.

"Oh Caturanga, we both know that poor Wooley wouldn't be able to tell the difference between his head and his arse without me there." Helena said earning her a round of laughter from her mentor.

" Miss Wells i would agree on that." He said as he gestured to turn."It's so nice to see your sense of humor is there, would you care to take a walk with me?" He said as he held forth his hand, in a movement suggesting she follow. She hadn't planned on finding anyone in the archiving sector, but this was Caturanga and she had loved being in his presence. He was a warm and gentle man, always the fatherly type towards her and so she took her place at his side as they began to walk through the aisle. They walked on for a while in awkward silence, she could see his brows creased, he was yet in deep thought, before she could break the silence he spoke," Miss Wells, how have you been?"

"I...I.." she started to say. She should have known. Everyone was constantly asking her how she was doing. How could she possibly respond to that? How do you say you're fine, when you're not? " I'm as well as one can be, given the circumstances." She said as she came to a halt.

" I understand." Caturanga said as he took hold of her hand, causing Helena to with draw taking a step back. Caturanga's face bore the hurt he must have felt at Helena's withdrawal.

" You don't." She said, " no one understands." Helena folded her arms across her chest, as she tried to fight back the tears welling in her eyes and the pain in her heart.

" I'm sorry you're right." he said as he took a step toward her, in an act of comfort, but Helena withdrew even more. Caturanga let his hands fall to his side as he bent his head and shook it." I..." he sighed.

Helena felt herself trapped in a box, the grief as if water, slowly filling, there was no where to go, no escape. Her heart screamed, she tried to fight it, tried not to let the tears flow so freely, but she could not stop it. It had been a while since she had allowed the grief to come in. She'd kept busy always  
trying to avoid the pain within." I... I've been trying so hard not to feel anything... trying so hard..." her words were cut by her sobbing.

"Oh dear child. No, you must not push the grief aside, you must face it head on if you are to over come it." He said as he once again reached out his hand, only to rest it gently on HG's shoulder. This time she did not pull away, but stood there, welcoming the comfort.

"I don't want to over come it. I want to stop it." Helena said as she blinked tears away from her vision, as she looked into his eyes." I want my Christina back and i will find a way." her voice echoing with defiance.

"that's why you are here." Caturanga said as he looked around the aisle, before bringing his gaze back toward Helena." Miss Wells, listen to me. The Warehouse does posses endless wonder, even I am not fully aware of the vast wonders that lurk here, but whatever you are planning, whatever you are looking for, you need to stop. It can cost you far greater than what you may be willingly to pay. It is dangerous."

"I have to try..I ha..." Helena began to say. Caturanga, place both his hands on both Helena's shoulders and looked her deep in her eyes.

"Miss Wells promise me. Promise me you wouldn't."

"I.."

"No Helena!" Caturanga's voice grew loud. It was the first time he had referred to her as Helena and it had surprised her. It was always formally Miss Wells or simply H.G. ."Promise me!"

"I promise." was all she said, as Caturanga took her into a hug. Helena, should have known better than to let slip part of what she had planned. She knew as she answered him, that she was not making such a promise, that she would go on ahead with her plans. If Caturanga had worries over her using anything from within the Warehouse, then she will simply have to find another way, cause she knew if anything had come up missing, she will be the first to be questioned.

…

Helena slipped out from her hiding spot across the room. Her hand still clutching her Tesla.

"HG!" the voice yelled as his face was revealed by the light as he took a step towards her. Her words caught in her throat as she recognized this man. He was soaked in blood, his eyes red from the crying he had done over the body. His brow glistened with blood and sweat. "H..G" he whispered

"Macshane." Helena replied barely a whisper.

Macshane looked at her as his gaze drifted around the room, to the body lying behind her in a broken beaten mess. She heard from him a sharp intake of breath as he saw Al and she saw the look in his eyes change from grief to fright as he drew his Tesla and took aim at her.

"Bloody hell HG" he said as he took stance to fire if he had to. " What have you done?" he asked, but HG just stood there with a look on her face of someone who wasn't entirely there, someone who looked utterly lost.

"I.." Helena began to say

"Shoot the whore! shoot her!" Bart yelled breaking his silence cutting off HG. "She tried to kill me!"

"Dear god!" Macshane exclaimed as he took a few steps back as he found himself a little too close to Helena. He had known Helena for a while and had trusted her, but now he was not so sure.

Wolly had come to him earlier stating that ever since the death of Christina, HG had changed. That he had picked up on her strange routine changes, her late outings and late arrivals to artifact hunts and whenever he had asked her about it, she just blew it off as simply nothing and insisted that he knew it wasn't just that. There would be change, they both had knew that. HG had lost the most important person in her life, but HG had gone beyond the simple grieving mother and today poor Wolly had certainly picked up on it. Wolly told him that they had scheduled in to interview witnesses that morning on an artifact that was making it's presence known and she was was not herself. Her mind was else where and she had seemed in a rush. It was when she had abruptly left him at the end of the interviews, that Wolly had come to both him and Caturanga telling them of Helena's strange behaviour and they were given the go ahead to follow her . It wasn't until they had seen her snap and fought using kenpo that they had somewhat figured out what she was up to.

" Wolly…. Dear god Wolly!" Helena exclaimed as she looked to the corner that Wolly had managed to drag himself before he succumbed to his injury. She ran to is body laying in a pool of blood and threw herself on the ground, raking her hands over his cold lifeless face.

"HG, step away from him." Macshane order as he held fast to his Tesla, his knuckles going white.

"Macshane you don't understand!" She said as she shook her head, unable to comprehend what she had done.

"HG, you need to step away! How can you look upon his face now?" he asked his frame trembling. " You're the reason he is how he is… He is dead!" he spat out with disgust.

"I.." HG said as she stood up and began walking towards Macshane.

"HG stop! Don't come any closer." Macshane ordered

"Macshane, please listen.."

"Helena! Don't move!" he shouted as his finger slowly began to squeeze the trigger. " HG! One step closer and I will shoot!" he yelled, but she did not listen, or she did not quiet believe that he would pull the trigger…...that he would hurt her. He had known her, but did not think her capable of this and it is with that thought that he looked down at the cold, pale body of his friend that he knew he was wrong. He did not know her, not anymore and it was at that step she took, that he fired.

… **..**

Helena awoke to a throbbing pain in her head and ringing sound in her ear. She felt the soft cushions against her back and smelt an old familiar scent of pipe tobacco. She slowly opened her eyes for it to be met with the glow of a torch against the wall as she slowly blinked her eyes and cast her eyes around the room. She knew this place, she knew it quiet well. Why was she in Caturanga's office?

Helena tried to move her arms in an attempt to sit, but found her hands had been cuffed. Why was she cuffed? This made no sense to her. She managed to get herself to sit and leaned her throbbing head against the back of the sofa that she had found herself on. She closed her eyes and tried her best to think of why one, she was cuffed and two, why she cuffed and in Caturanga's office.

Helena had known a lot of time had gone by, fir the ache in her legs and back told her so. She had been sitting for a while and as much as she tried to move or stand she felt herself unbalanced and nauseous, so she stayed as still as possible to avoid any appearance of what was in her stomach. She wanted to know what was going on and tried calling out from where she sat, but she heard no one and trying again to get up and make it to the door only caused her more grief. It was then that she heard loud voices and the sound of footsteps coming towards the door. She looked towards the door and saw Caturanga as he opened the door followed by Macshane. She sat up as much as she could and was about to ask what was going on, but was interrupted by Caturanga. "HG… wh.." he began to say as he paused, " do you...do yo.." he started to say yet again, but paused, taking his spectacles off and giving his face a wipe with his handkerchief.

"Catu..." she began to say only to be swiftly cut off again.

" HG….. Helena. Do you know what you have done?" he finally let out.

" I would suppose the reasons why my hands are cuffed would suggest that yes I have done something but, I am not entirely sure what it is." she said . Macshane sighed heavily as he looked at Caturanga, his eyes betraying him, he was hiding something and Macshane was the type of person who was most brutally honest in his opinions and was never one to hold back. " Well out with it man." she said to Macshane. " I would be speaking from experience and I'd say that I was Tesla'd" Macshane's body language utterly betrayed him now. He bowed his head and would not look her in the eye. " Fuck. I must have really done something horrible to be Tesla'd and I'd say by the looks of the way you are acting Macshane, you were the one to do it. So what did I do?"

Macshane looked at Caturanga and Helena knew that they were sharing some sort of secret conversation. "Do you remember anything?" Caturanga asked.

"Nothing, other than waking up here"

"We did anticipate the memory loss." Caturanga said, "seeing as you were Tesla'd ,What date is it HG?"

" Wednesday 7th September, the year 1891." She said, " I'm suppose to meet Wolly, we have some investigating to do, concerning an artifact in connection to Sir Joseph William Bazalgette, you know the guy that solve the whole Great Stink problem, the whole of London thanks him, as I do." she said as she smirked.

"you're speaking of yesterday morning." Caturanga said. The look in his eyes reflected a great sadness. HG knew whatever she had done had been detrimental. " HG, what I am about to tell you will be difficult to hear, but…."

"Why are you going easy on her?" Macshane said breaking his silence, anger apparent in his eyes.

"Macsh….."

"NO! Caturanga! She has always been given the better treatment! How can you bear to go easy on her after what she has done!" Macshane blurted out as he rushed to Caturanga's side.

"Macshane, this is different, you need to.."

"Wha...What did I do.?" Helena asked her eyes pleading. They turned to face her.

"Wolly." Caturanga said, face distorting in grief.

"Wolly is dead!" Macshane shouted. "Wolly is dead and so is Alistair!" Macshane paused, taking an evident deep breath, " Two dead. HG, two dead, one…... one maimed for the rest of his life." tears broke free from Macshane. The bravado he had always put on, now crumbling before her. "by….by your hand. You did this." He said as he turned from her. He could no longer bear to look at her.

"Alistair?" she let out, barely a whisper. They knew. She did something and now they knew. She had been so careful, at least she thought she was. "Wolly!?" she said as her heart broke. She could never hurt Wolly. Sure he was a pain in her arse, but she cared about him, he was her partner, her friend.

"Wolly came to us yesterday morning after you ran off at the end of your investigation." Caturanga said as he approached her, kneeling and taking hold of her hand. "He…. He had been noticing your strange behaviour and wanted nothing more than to help you." he sighed "We are still not sure what happened after he followed you into the sewer canal, to the makeshift lab you had set up, but what we did find were two men, one dead and the other badly injured." HG broke, sobs racking her entire body as her tears streamed down her face.

She had done it then. She had successfully gotten her "justice",but at what price. How could she have killed Wolly. "Dear …. G...God… Wolly." She sobbed out.

" We need to talk HG." Caturanga said as he made his way to his desk, "The regents… the..they…." he could not finish his sentence.

Helena was sure that she had been prepared to deal with the consequences of what she had planned. She knew that once she went through with it that there would be no coming back, but Wolly had not been part of her plan. Wolly had become a casualty of her own grief and lust for vengeance. It was at that moment with the thoughts of Wolly, dead by her hands fully sunk in. Had she been so blinded by rage that she killed her friend. She had allowed rage, hate, grief and bitterness to consume her so much that she would do something like that. The grief she had held back for so long, intertwined with the hurt of the events that had been told to her from last night wove it's way into every nerve ending as she felt her body racking with sobs, so hard her chest felt like it would be split apart. Her apparent actions had opened a flood gate of pain that consumed her. She sat there crying, her breathing became hard and shallow, she cried and cried, while her mind constantly itched, thinking of every event, every word, every sound, every feeling that has lead her here. She had finally broke. Whatever there was to be done, she accepted it, how could she go on living knowing that her grief had lead her hand to the death of her friend. She was beyond the cause of being helped. She allowed herself to be consumed, allowed herself to change and never once allowed herself to face the grief, to face the pain, to heal. She then looked up to Caturanga with red eyes and tear stained cheeks and asked " What is to become of me?"


End file.
